Love to Hold a Family Together
by Faithful Magewhisper
Summary: Sequel to 'Love, Babies and Other Secrets'. Molly tries to build up a relationship with her mother and handle her fears over possibly losing Ron while he's off to hunt down the Horcruxes.
1. The Burial

_**Love to Hold a Family Together**_

**Chapter 1: The Burial**

The Weasley family stood together over a fresh grave behind a huge manor. Molly was leaning heavily onto her husband who had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Ginny stood next to her mother on the other side and rubbed her cheek against her mother's shoulder. Red-haired boys of various ages stood behind and next to them. All the Weasleys had come to pay their last respects to a man they had never really known but always missed in their lives.

Opposite the united family stood the reverend holding the sermon and offered his sincere sympathy to the widow. Every few words she would nod but, truth be told, she wasn't paying attention to his words, didn't even hear them. Her eyes were fixed on her daughter's face. Molly had every right to hate her father and surely she had wished for her father's death more than once in the past 27 years. Yet here she stood at his grave, mourning a man she had never understood, had never seen eye to eye, had never really loved.

Ginevra was furious beyond everything else she should feel at her husband's funeral. How dare her daughter show up at his funeral? What possessed her to pretend to mourn? This false show of sympathy was unwanted and unwelcome. It was not how that sort of thing was done in this family. She should know that since she once had been a part of said family.

Molly was highly aware of her mother's eyes on her. She had debated the wisdom of coming to her father's funeral. Finally Bill had taken her hand and said gravely, "If you want to go, you should. He was your father, no matter how far you grew apart over the years. You might not think so now but I know that one day you'll feel sorry if you don't go." Her children had all decided to go and be there for their grandmother. Molly had only caught up to her family seconds before they apparated to Prewett Manor.

The moment her feet had touched the earth again, she had been drowned in memories. Nothing had really changed since her childhood. There was the old oak tree to which Gideon and Fabian had tied her and then had played Indians and cowboys. Further into the garden the blue of the pond had glittered in the sunlight. She had heard her own laughter joining her brothers' as they ran towards it, shedding their clothes as they ran and plunging into its cool water. Turning slightly, she had faced the house and had heard clear as day her voice, raised in anger, yelling at her mother to let her go, that she was engaged with Arthur and that she would rather die than marry Lucius Malfoy. She could hear her father's raucous voice calling out to her mother to discipline 'these little heathens' she had born so that he could have some peace to work. She saw herself hiding under beds and sofas from her mother's wrath and cringing away whenever she heard her father approaching.

Arthur had been right there next to her though and her father's voice was just a memory now. He would never again yell at her. For the first time the awareness of his death really had hit her and she had staggered against Arthur. He had caught her with his arms around her waist and reassuring words running over her like water, soothing only a little. Blindly she had grabbed at him. "My dad is dead ... my daddy is gone ... Oh God, Arthur, my daddy is gone and won't come back," she had moaned in despair. Then her legs had given way under her and she would have fallen if Arthur hadn't held her up and then put his other arm behind her knees, lifting her clear off her feet. She had sobbed into his shoulder.

Now she stood opposite her mother and saw the same hostility in her eyes she had seen the last time they had met. The kinder, apologetic look she had exhibited at Bill's wedding was gone. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears over her husband's death, anger over Molly's being at the funeral and jealousy.

For the first time in her life Molly realized how lonely her mother's life was. She had lost all of her three children in one way or another. Her sons had been killed by death-eaters. Her daughter had left the family to marry a man her parents thought beneath her station at the tender age of 17. And now her husband had been killed only a week ago by death-eaters in order to defend said daughter.

Ginevra was alone with nobody left to her except a daughter who wasn't speaking to her.

Molly's heart ached for Ginevra and she could, again for the first time in her life, understand some of her mother's disappointment and anger with her. She had everything her mother ever wanted in life. Molly's life was rich with laughter, joy, love and friendship, she had seven wonderful children and a husband she truly loved and who loved her in return. Molly was so richly blessed ... and her mother had nothing left anymore other than a big, empty house full of painful memories, both for her and her mother.

Slowly she walked over to her mother and took her hand gently between her own. Ginevra didn't turn around but kept staring into her husband's grave.

"Mum," Molly began, "I wanted to talk to you since Bill's wedding but you left so soon after Dad's death and you haven't answered any of my owls ..."

"Yes, owls. That's all you send. Never once did you come here and talk to me ... you shut your father and me completely out of your life!"

"You wanted to control me, sell me to the highest bidder! Did you actually answer any of my letters? Did you? What happened to them then? Got lost in a storm?" Now Molly was as angry as her mother. Both witches had a fiery temper which flared easily. But Molly didn't want to fight with her mother now. Too many years have already been lost because of their stupid pride and their inability to forgive. "Never mind, mother. I didn't come here today to fight. As a matter of fact I never wanted to."

Ginevra stared at her daughter, wide-eyed and disbelieving. She didn't want to get her hopes up and then be disappointed and rejected again. Carefully hiding her gaze behind a polite mask, she looked into her daughter's eyes. Molly's weren't masked and Ginevra saw clearly how affected her child was by the loss of her father, how much she really wanted a relationship with her and how much she feared being rejected herself. Tenderness washed over her heart and Ginevra gently cupped Molly's cheek with her hand. "You're right, Molly, always were. We spent too much time fighting already. Will you visit me some time?" she asked carefully, still not trusting herself and her daughter.

"No, mother," Molly said softly and noticed her mother's face fall and figure slump. All strength seemed to desert this usually so stern, confident woman. "I won't visit because I want you to come and live with us ... until the war is over ... only if you want to ... I won't think less if you don't ..."

"Kindly do stop babbling, Molly. That is not very becoming ... I told you so many times," Ginevra scolded quietly but with a definite glint in her eyes. She was just teasing her daughter this time.

Molly was very surprised about this lighter side of her mother. Slowly and still cautiously an answering smile spread over her face.

"So you'll stay with us?" she asked.

"I would be honoured to."


	2. New Home

A.N.: I know, I know. It is months that I updated and I'm sorry. Anyway ... So here is the next chapter. Plz read and review and be kind. :) Enjoy

LG Faithful

**Chapter 2: New Home**

Molly watched her mother's every move through lowered lashes, trying hard not to stare openly, as Ginevra hastened through the front door to pack her belongings. Ginevra Prewett had always been an intimidating woman, but now she looked ... haughty. Her eyes seemed to have lost the last flicker of warmth and hard lines of grief had cut through the skin around mouth and eyes. Her once sensual mouth was now only a flat line of disapproval. No smile appeared on them, no kind word was spoken. The years, which had been kind to Ginevra so far, were now taking their toll on her with a vengeance.

Softly Molly placed an arm around her daughter's shoulders, leaning slightly onto her.

"You're not like her, mum," Ginny said quietly, somehow reading her mother's thoughts.

"I don't know, sweets," Molly replied as quietly as her daughter. "I'm her child ... something must have rubbed off on me. When I was in their house, I was as good as they are in hiding my emotions behind a mask."

"Well, yeah, maybe." Ginny frowned a bit, thinking it over. "You always encouraged us to say what we feel, to talk about what upset us. You made us laugh all the time and dried our tears. If there's a 'Best Mommy in the World'-price, it's yours." Ginny snuggled into her mum's arms, laying her head on the woman's shoulder.

Molly broke out into a radiant smile and tightened her arms around her. "Thank you, my love," she crooned softly. "My mother never wore her heart on her sleeves, and I never wanted to be like her."

George came over to them, a deep frown on his face. "Mum, why does Mrs. Prewett have the notion that she is going to live with us?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, I ..."

"NO!" Arthur's bellow surprised everyone. "Absolutely not! I will not have her in my house!"

"Arthur, please," Molly said quietly. "She is my mother ..."

"Fine mother, who didn't show up once since you married." Bill had come over and added his opinion. "I still think they haven't repaid their debts to our family ..."

"Bill, this is not about getting even," Molly said sternly, a cold glint in her eyes. She could be as intimidating as her mother – if she wanted. "This is about holding together as a family in times of a crisis. If you haven't noticed there is a war going on. I just buried my father, and I have no intentions to bury my mother anytime soon."

All the Weasleys could see the real fear in Molly's eyes. They had to admit that this was a very serious possibility. Ginevra Prewett was a rich and influential widow now, living all alone in a big, empty house. It would be weeks till anyone would find out if something happened to her. And all kids knew about their mother's determination to keep the family whole and safe.

Fleur put a small hand on Bill's muscled arm and squeezed a little, drawing his attention, then she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Don't you want a chance to get to know your grandmère and give her a chance to apologise to you?" she asked softly.

Molly felt awful for ever having had bad thoughts about Fleur. She was amazed to get help from this ally.

Bill thought his wife's words over, carefully, before he nodded at last. "She better be on her best behaviour or I'll kick her out," he growled, very much the werewolf who had bitten him.

Arthur, on the other hand, was not yet happy or remotely content with his mother-in-law staying at his house. His big hands clenched and unclenched as if he was wishing to wrap them around Ginevra's neck and wring it. He also knew his wife and knew that she would hold on to her idea. She had suffered terribly in the years of estrangement from her parents, always keeping the door open for them in case they decided to forgive her for marrying beneath her station. Arthur was not willing to live under Ginevra's scrutiny and judgement, not in his own house. He also knew that it would lead to a fight with his wife in front of their children and his mother-in-law if he refused Molly's wish. He tried the reasonable approach. "Molly, dear," he said patiently – too patiently, "where is your mother supposed to sleep? If _you_ haven't noticed our home is in shambles at the moment. We have to rebuild it first."

"We are wizards, Arthur," Molly interrupted him just as patiently, but with gritted teeth.

"Or you could live here ... the house certainly is big enough." Ginevra's cultured voice cut through the argument. "It would also be safer here than in ..."

"... in a ramshackle cottage. Is that what you wanted to say?" Arthur exploded into Ginevra's face.

The older woman stepped back, intimidated by this to her unusual behaviour from her son-in-law. Molly had always described him as patient, calm, and a little scatter-brained. Now he showed signs of a side so much like his father-in-law's effervescent nature.

"N-no," she stuttered out. "Not at all. I meant 'than in the middle of nowhere'. Here we are surrounded by other villas."

"I am well able to protect my family, and I thank you to stop hinting otherwise," Arthur still fumed over the assumed insult. It was just like these stuck-up, rich people to always think themselves better than anyone else.

"That is quiet enough," Molly stepped between her mother and her husband.

"I agree," Arthur said. "She obviously ..."

"I meant you," Molly hissed and glared up at her husband.

"ME?"

"Yes, you," she elaborated. "Mum is coming with us to the Burrow. It is not in shambles. Most of it nowadays is underground, as we planned in advance since the last attack, so we should be fine. Besides we added on since the renovations. There is room in Ron's room ... since ... since he ..." Molly stopped and now even Ginevra realized that one of her grandchildren was missing. It was obvious that something had happened to him or Molly would be fighting a losing battle with her tears.

"Did something happen to him during the fighting? Is he wounded?" she asked breathlessly.

Molly shook her head no but it was Ginny who answered her question. "No, he is not ... at least we don't think so, but we don't know. He apparated with Hermione and Harry to help Harry with ..."

"Ginny, sh!" Bill all but yelled. "This is none of her business!"

"She is a member of this family," Ginny hissed back.

"She is not!" Bill growled.

"Enough." Charlie spoke calmly. Slowly he stepped into the middle of his family and nodded curtly to his grandmother. "Ron is off to be with his two best friends since they are muggleborn and sought after," he lied swiftly – and, truth be told, it was only a half-lie. "Now I agree with Mum that the family should stick together. Dad, let us go home. I feel uneasy to discuss this further standing out in the open." For a long moment he held the eyes of his father and then of those of his older brother, willing them to see reason and drop the stupid fighting, then he added quietly. "I was too young the last time, but I remember what others told me. You-Know-Who tries to separate us and then picks off one after the other. We have to stand together as one to have a chance to come out of this alive."

Arthur dropped his gaze to his feet. He knew what it had been like the last time and he remembered how his own family had been torn apart. Charlie was right they had to stick together to get through it this time. "Yes, let's go home, son. We already lost your uncles and your grandfather." After a moment's hesitation, he bowed to Ginevra and offered her his arm. "For the sake of those we have lost, I accept you into my family and house."

Ginevra's eyes had leaked a tear as Arthur had reminded her of the deaths of her twin sons. Molly was the only family she had left. It dawned on her how dependant she was on her daughter. She looked into her son-in-law's eyes and then and there changed the impression she had had of him for so long. He might was been born poor in terms of money but he was so much richer than she in human kindness. She graciously accepted his arm and instantly felt the sensation of apparition. When she opened her eyes, she stood in front of a very small house.

"Welcome to the Burrow," said Fred with a mischief gleam in his eyes, daring her to say something.


	3. Welcome To the Burrow

**Chapter 3: (Welcome) to the Burrow**

Ginevra Prewett stood before a rickety, rather shabby looking house, surrounded by nothing but marchland, reads, and brackish water. As Arthur had said their home was in shambles … and she thought he had rather understated their circumstances. She bit her tongue, though, and held her mouth shut. Her grandson, Charlie (she thought), looked at the house with obvious pride.

"Dad fixed it up after Albus Dumbledore gave it to him as a wedding gift. Every nook and cranny has 'US' stamped on it," he explained, smiling from ear to ear. "When we rebuilt it after the wedding, Mum was determined to make it look as it had before. She is so proud of our home … lots of happy memories …" Charlie trailed off, reminiscing.

"I see." Ginevra's voice was quiet, and didn't seem to penetrate her grandson's thoughts. She finally understood – or at least partly – why her son-in-law had been so adamant in his refusal to let her into his home. She had never made any of her children feel at home in Prewett Manor, she had not stopped her husband from throwing her children out on the street when they refused to abide by their rules, … she had never really felt at home in that cold place. Her house held untold luxuries and everything to make life easy and comfortable. Even though, Ginevra had to admit it hadn't been heartbreaking to leave her home … mainly because it wasn't a home and the memories it held were rather sad and depressing.

Reverently she stepped forward and touched a hand to the old bricks and planks of the home her daughter had formed all on her own, far away from her. Charlie was right. The Burrow seemed to breathe … she could almost feel a heartbeat … but of course that was impossible. What she felt under her hand was her own heartbeat echoing through her bones and the wood. The warmth she felt was the heat of her own skin. Still this place could never feel foreboding and dangerous, cold and hard. A tear slipped from her eyes, unbidden und far too late.

"So what do you think?" The voice of one of the twins cut sharply through her thoughts. Both boys seemed to challenge her with their eyes to say what she truly thought about their home. Ginevra didn't need someone to spell it out for her – the twins were on their father's side, and didn't want her in their home. Then she felt a small hand gently take hers and a commanding voice told them off.

"Fred, George, stop it!" Ginny said harshly. "She's our grandmother and she's gonna live here, so get over it." For good measure she glared at both of them fiercely and then just turned away. "Their bark is worse than their bite – just don't show fear around them," she advised her grandmother with a grin.

"Hey, we heard that!" came the exclamation from her brothers.

Ginny stuck out her tongue at them, but didn't retaliate. She simply tugged at Ginevra's hand and almost dragged her to the front door and into the house.

The inside was as warm and friendly as the outside was. Mismatched furniture, worn rugs, the dirty fireplace … everything in this room positively exuded happiness and family, everything mirrored the characters of the people who lived here. Ginevra could only imagine how her own home exuded coldness and unfriendliness and only mirrored the owners' stubbornness to let go of out-dated and archaic rules.

"Please, Mother, do say what you think?" Molly asked quietly, suddenly standing by her side. She was nervously shifting from one foot to the other. Ginevra had to smile; it seemed that not that much had changed in all those years. Molly still tried to please her.

"Isn't it obvious?" Arthur asked his wife snidely. "She's currently asking herself how you managed to survive for so long in this pigsty." He glared at his mother-in-law. "She is fine and I take good care of her, I provide as best as I can for my family!"

"Arthur, I …" Ginevra couldn't even formulate a verbal response to the unexpected accusation.

Her daughter, though, had something to say. "Well, you know we didn't have time to clean up and lock the chicken into their coop …" Molly began to diffuse the situation, but Arthur would have none of it.

"You begin to see everything through her eyes," Arthur exploded into his wife's face.

Ginevra shrunk back in apprehension. She remembered clearly how her husband had always shouted, snarled and towered threateningly over her. Molly, on the other hand, didn't seem one bit afraid of Arthur. She drew herself up and spoke calmly but with enough steel in her voice to give her words emphasis.

"No, Arthur, I don't. Mother didn't have a chance to say anything and it is highly unfair for you and the boys to jump to false conclusions. Now let her speak."

Surprisingly enough Arthur shut his mouth and looked down at his shoes with a bashful expression. He mumbled something to quiet for her to understand, but Molly seemed to take it for an apology. All eyes now fixed on her and the entire Weasley family seemed to hold their breath.

"I … I … the house … that is to say …" Ginevra was unnerved to be the centre of attention, but then she took a deep breath and just said what was on her mind. "Everything seems to be in order. The house is small but lovely and I would really like to see the rest before passing judgement of any kind." She exhaled again and looked up carefully to see if she had found the right words or if the family was angry at her.

Ginny's hand squeezed hers and a grin spread across her face as she tucked her grandmother over to the kitchen.

"This is where we all spend most of our time," she explained. "Mum is a fantastic cook and the boys are always hungry."

"Yup," one of the twins came up next to Ginevra and casually draped his arm across her shoulders. "We didn't really appreciated Mum's cooking until we moved out and had to do it ourselves. I don't know how we would survive if we couldn't come back and our 'starving puppy-dog eyes'-trick wouldn't work on Mum anymore." He grinned over to his mother, who just rolled her eyes but then blew him a kiss, chuckling softly as he blushed.

Apparently Ginevra had found the right words and they had come to a silent truce for now. The first hurdle had been overcome.


End file.
